My finale journey home
by storyteller angel
Summary: By posting this I mean to harm or upset. I'm in no way a professional or expert on this disease please R&R


My finale journey home.

DISCLAIMER-I don't own Waterloo Road. It belongs to Shed Productions and is broadcasted by the BBC.

Mentions of HUNTINGTON'S DISEASE

Her eyes fluttered closed as she sat at her. She didn't know if she could do this again, live a life of lies and deceit, until she forgot everything about herself and lived out her finale days in some serialised hospital ward, being taken care by those nurses with the sad, pitying looks in their eyes.

she knew what was wrong with her, she didn't need any doctors to run tests and give her the dreaded confirmation that she knew would have come with it, her mother had had it and she did too

she'd watched her mum die, a cold,inhumane and weak death, Rachel didn't want to die the same way, but there way absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.

Her right hand that was holding her pen starting to without provocation, making small round dots on the report that she was trying to write, the sight of that small, imperceptible tremble made her shiver- it was only the beginning

Her hand writing had become so jagged that Rachel had begun to type whenever possible, she didn't know if anyone had noticed or if Joyce had noticed. She wanted this kept

She felt helpless as time went on, she picked up her coffee and nearly dropped it as her began to get worse, it had begun when Rachel went out for a meal with her husband and had to leave half way through as her shaking had become uncontrollable.,

The shaking scared her; it was the start of her becoming dependant on other people. She was an independent woman and the thought of having to have other people do things for her horrified her. She'd gone down to the art department the other day, and taught what she could of used to be able to do with her eyes closed had become a physical and mental battle against the disease's effects and her will. Quickly, she dropped her pen and clenched her fists together before pressing them down on the desk. It had worked just a few weeks ago, but she had an akinetic-rigid syndrome as well. It was strange in someone of her age, but it had happened. It meant she would progress worse and faster.

She had memorized the levels of the disease by heart now: the first stage was mood swings. Then it progressed on to a decline in coordination and subtle body movements. Signs of the third level were jerky body movements, decrease in mental abilities, and behavioural and physical iatric problems. There were only three more steps, the fourth including impediment of physical movements until it becomes very hard. The last two stages was the scariest. It was when her mental abilities would deteriorate into dementia.

Then with stage six it's just a case of letting Huntington's disease take your life. Whether it be from the problems it causes: heart disease or pneumonia, or old age. The worst thing is it isn't always fast. Rachel was on stage two, but approaching stage three now. She knew she would have to resign soon; she couldn't continue to do this job when she couldn't move. She'd gotten her dream job, but it had taken over her life. She hadn't done the simple things she would have loved to do; she'd gotten married, but her alternate dream was to have a kid or two. Her job had taken over her life; she'd fallen in love but She let her job take over and left herself behind in the process. And, she admitted to herself, it hurt to think that she left everything behind for a cold, hollow satisfaction.

She remembered her mother's death; she'd been thirteen when her mother had been diagnosed and 16 when she had died. Her mother was lucky in that respect; she hadn't had to live that long under the disease's control. But Rachel remembered, all to clearly, when her mother had reached stage five, the day that Rachel had come home from school and her mother had forgotten who she was. Rachel remembered the sharp pain that had stabbed through her heart. She had promised herself that it would not happen again.

Now that was her. She was the one who would forget every memory she had made, every person she had helped or been helped by, and every family she had brought justice to – but worst of all, she would forget Her husband . She would forget how young and in love she was. That was what hurt the most.

She turned around and gazed out of the window. Rain pattered down outside; creating a soothing, familiar sound. The lights of waterloo road shined brightly, contrasting strikingly against the coal black of night. It was her favourite view, scene, and place. Just gazing out and watching as life passed her by. It seemed as though she had spent the last three years watching as life passed her by. Tonight was no different She stood up, only to fall down again.

Her head was spinning and her knees buckled under her. It was beginning. Stage three was starting. A silent tear started to roll down her face. She heard her door slam, and Adam stood there, staring a hole in her back.

"What do you want, Love?" she questioned in a bare whisper. Her voice was quiet, weak; there was no point hiding it any longer. He could pick that out in her voice and it made him stop. All of a sudden his anger was wiped away. He walked around the desk and saw another tear rolling down her cheeks.

"Rach?" he questioned, his heart being torn in two. He had never seen her cry; he didn't think she would ever. She'd always been so strong, yet here she sat, crying, silently and alone.

""Leave it, Adam." She said, tone raw with unsaid emotion, avoiding his eyes, still looking outside. He placed his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him. Looking deep in her eyes he saw the pain, the regret and the fear; it was something he had never seen in her before. Adam had watched as Rachel fought death, day in day out. She'd been held hostage and had a gun held to her head. But never had she been scared.

""No Rachel, not again." He looked down to her shaking hands and cupped them in his own. She looked in his eyes, seeing the one thing she had only ever hoped to see, love and compassion. "What's going on Rach?"

"It's starting Adam, It's starting." She didn't know why she was telling him this. She didn't want anyone to know, anyone to see her weak. Rachel Fleet did not want people to look at her as another victim of this disease. Then again, Adam had always blown her plans away. She had never expected to fall in love with him, after all.

"Rachel, what is starting?" he was worried now, forehead creased in worry lines.

"I'm dying. I…I have Huntington's disease Adam; I have the fastest and worst strain of it." Her quiet sobs filled the silent room. He was shocked as he pulled her into his warm and strong embrace. Tears filled the hard as nails ex-army commanders eyes as his walls crumbled down. The love of his life was dying, only this time he couldn't get revenge, or help. Instead he had to watch her die. But he would do what he could, because she needed him.

"I'll be here for you Rach." He knew the symptoms of the disease, his friends mother had it. Now he was going to be there for Rach, because she needed him, and he would be here, by her side.

Rachel resigned two weeks later; she realised that she wanted to spend the last of her time with those she loved. She may have resigned but she spent many of her days at Waterloo Road. The kids becoming more of a friend than a pupil to her.

They'd call by, go out for meals, and generally have a laugh. It was strange at first, but soon they became like an friends to Rachel. As she become more ill, and entered the stage where she struggled to do anything, he let her and the kids take time to spend with her when they left to stay with her.

To any outsider, she looked like an ordinary woman; she laughed and smiled and cried whenever the kids was over. They would gather around her bed and tell stories. It had been weird at first, but then they had become more comfortable as the weeks passed by.

In the two years that followed, they became closer than anyone could have had ever imagined. Rachel and Adam, they just become closer than ever.

On one of the days when Adam had to work , Rachel made her will. She didn't leave it all to Adam; instead she left the house to Bolton, because it was a family home, and Bolton was like a son to them.

On the 24th December 2011, at 20:30, Rachel Fleet passed away. She had spent three years battling the disease that had threatened to ruin her life. She had spent six months fighting dementia, a battle she had lost. But on that day, they were all gathered around her bed. She remembered everything. They laughed, and smiled and told stories like the old days. But Adam gghhad known that Rachel was dying that night. She'd fallen asleep in his arms. But she hadn't woken up.

"The autopsy report classed it as a heart attack. It was silent, and mercifully, she didn't suffer. But Christmas would never be the same again. It would be filled with memories of that day. The funeral was not held in Yorkshire , but in a family cemetery.

"Rachel Fleet would never be forgotten. She fought a life threatening disease for three years, yet never lost who she was. But in the end, it was her own body that took her life. But she died happy. Because she died with something she had never thought she would have – a man who loved her, and a family.

Plz R&R Elle xx

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End file.
